Jealousy
by EmergencyFoodSupply
Summary: Prussia can't help but to hate Romano with how he treats Spain. One-sided SpainxRomano, one-sided PrussiaxSpain, eventual PrussiaxSpain, eventual lemon, human names used, a little angsty.
1. Jealousy

Jealousy

I hate this. It's been like this just about every day for the past few hundred years. It's always Romano this, Romano that, and "Romano is so cute!" It's enough to make a guy wanna hurl. Which is usually what I pretend to do. But 'Toni always just laughs and Francis shoots me the stupid, knowing look. It's just not awesome.

This time around, Francis drapes his arms over my shoulders, breaking my inner rant. "You shouldn't pout. Although it does make you look awfully cute," he breathed into my ear in a lame attempt at seduction.

"Shut it Francis." I swat at his face. On most days, I'd probably go for it, but I'm just not in the mood for his shit today. "And I'm not pouting. Someone as awesome as me doesn't pout."

"Is something wrong?" Antonio looks between me and Francis with that damn confused, innocent face of his and I almost feel guilty. God only knows why he even hangs out with the two of us.

"Nah, it's nothin', 'Toni, forget it." I force a smile, even though I don't feel like giving the effort today. I doubt he even notices the difference though, since I'm such an awesome actor. "So what were you saying about the little eye-tie?"

Antonio makes a face; I know he doesn't like me calling the brat that, but I can't help myself. I really hate 'im.

I know it's kind of mean and pretty damn rude of me, but I start tuning 'Toni out about ten seconds after he starts rambling. I know I asked about him, but I really don't wanna hear about the latest 'adorable' thing Romano did. Instead, I just watch my best friend talk. The way his lips curl upwards in the cute smile and the way his eyes light up; I love it when he's like this. I just hate that it's Romano who's causing it. Romano… The little bastard that's always pushing 'Toni away, who tells 'Toni he hates him, who _uses_ 'Toni, and has him in tears some days. I hate that the only one who can make him feel that much is Romano.

And not me.

Like I said, just… not awesome.

A/N: Just a drabble. I wrote it mainly because I was in a pretty depressed mood today and I felt like writing something in a first person perspective. I might continue it later (I can think of a few things I'd like to do with this) if someone wants me to. *shrugs*


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Why do you hate Romano so much?"

The question was asked so innocently, so out of nowhere, that it really threw me off for a sec. But, being the totally awesome person that I am, I recovered lightning fast. " 'Cause he's a little bastard." Good enough reason for me, even if it's not the truth. 'Toni doesn't need to know that. Well, he _is_ a bastard, that's just not why I hate 'im. I can deal with bastards.

'Toni frowns. Guess he knows it, even if he doesn't need to. "Is it because of how he treats Germany?"

I laugh. That's just too rich. "Kesesese! Hell, no! West can take care of himself, 'Toni! 'Specially against _Romano_!" Plus it's actually kind of funny, how much it bugs West. He keeps saying how he'll never understand Italians.

"Then why?" He presses, his face serious as he leans in, like he's trying to intimidate the information out of me or something. His face is only inches away from mine and I can feel his warm breath against my face.

I just can't help it. I'm a man, after all, even if I'm an incredibly awesome one. His lips are too tempting, so I lean in to catch them with mine. They're warm, and soft. The kiss only lasts a second or two before I pull away, but afterwards my face feels hot.

" 'Cause he's a little bastard," I reply to the question I had almost forgotten. I try to smirk, but I can feel that it's a little shaky. Dammit! I am _not_ losing my cool!

'Toni frowns again and looks away, but I saw that he's blushing too. (Not that I'm blushing!) "That's not really an answer."

He's still on about that? God, everything's Romano with him! "Fine. You want an answer? How 'bout the fact he treats you like crap? That a good enough reason for you?" I snap, not able to control myself, it's all just pissing me off so bad. "No? Then what about how you still fawn all over him like some fucking lovesick puppy even _though_ he treats you like crap and I have to listen to you spew out compliments about him every chance you get. It's making me fucking sick."

I hit the wall. Some picture that West hung up falls, the glass shattering on the floor. Who fucking cares? I hated that painting anyway. "I mean, what are you, some kind of masochist? Do I have to start insulting you at every opportunity to get you to notice me?"

Antonio eyes widen. Fuck! What the hell did I just say? "Gil-"

"No!" I can feel my shoulders shaking as I turn away from him. "N-never mind. I take it all back. I hate him because he's an un-awesome little bastard, alright? That's all there is to it."

I can't look at him. I know what I'll see. It'll be that same _stupid_ look that Francis gives me all the time. That "Oh, poor Gilbert" look. I don't need their pity. I'm the awesome Prussian Empire, for God's sake! "I'm going to my room. I'll talk to you later, 'Tonio."

Antonio stares at Gilbert's back as he retreats into his room. His head was swimming. Gilbert couldn't possibly mean what he thought he meant. "He doesn't… does he…? No, that's… ridiculous…"

"And why would that be ridiculous, mon ami?" Francis asks, leaning casually in the door frame. "C'est amour!"

"But…" The Spaniard trails off uncertainly, not really sure why it's ridiculous. It just wasn't possible! "Why wouldn't he have told me?"

"Would you have?" Francis chuckles lightly. "With the way you're always talking about little Lovino, it's enough to take the wind out of even Gilbert's sails."

"But there was plenty of time before that!" Antonio insists. "He could have told me before I met Romano!"

"Ah…" Francis pauses for a moment then shrugs. "I suppose he thought he had plenty of time. Or perhaps he didn't realize how much he loved you until you were already taken."

"That's…"

"Ridiculous?" Francis finished for him. The Frenchman makes his way across the room and sits down on the couch where his shocked friend is sitting in an almost catatonic state. He wrapped his arms around Antonio's shoulders and pulled him close. "I know it's a lot for you to take in, mon ami. Think it over carefully and whatever you decide, be gentle with our Gilbert. You know he's not as tough as he acts, non?"

"I-" Antonio starts, but closes his mouth and nods, with a still confused, but determined look on his face. He didn't know what he was going to do yet, but he was going to do something. Gilbert or Romano? Which one mattered more to him?

Francis shook his head as he watched the expressions fly across his friend's face. He could tell exactly what Antonio was thinking. He was never able to hide his emotions very well.

He had always wanted Gilbert to tell Antonio how he felt. He constantly pestered Gilbert about it whenever Antonio wasn't around. After all, Antonio was never going to notice.

However… now that it had happened, Francis was no longer sure it was for the best. The dynamic of their group was going to be forever changed, no matter what the outcome was. And he wasn't sure of he liked that thought. But, if all went well, it would make Gilbert very happy. And Gilbert hadn't been truly happy in a long time.

Francis sighed, running his fingers through his hair and looking back at Antonio, then at the door Gilbert had left through. He supposed he would just watch it play out for now.

And hope for the best.

**A/N: **Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? I was a little iffy on continuing this because I have a hard time writing in first period for extended amounts of time. But! I love Prussia and Spain together. And I thought Gilbo deserved some loving. So, since a few people asked me to continue it, here it is! I'm sorry it's so short, I just write short chapters. *laughs*


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I pace the floor of my room from the window to the door. Door to window. Window to door again. I can hear Francis and Antonio talking somewhere outside, but I don't know what they're saying. I don't think I really want to know either. I didn't even know Francis had been there, the sneaky bastard. He probably enjoyed watching me make a complete fool of myself.

"Hey, Gilbird." The tiny yellow puffball lands on my shoulder and chirps shrilly into my ear. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm being pretty lame, huh?" I pat him on the head. "Bet I could make an awesome escape through the window if I wanted. Maybe go bug Matthew for some pancakes?"

Gilbird chirps again and I could swear he sounds upset with me. "Fine, fine. I'll stay here." Frowning, I sit on the edge of my bed. "You're a bit of a nag, you know that?" I turned and looked at the door. I didn't like this. They're talking about me, I just know it.

-o-o-o-

"But what about Romano?" Antonio jumps up from the couch and starts nervously pacing the length of the room.

"What about Romano? It's not like you two are... involved." Francis leans against the back of the couch, looking rather bored, when in reality, he's anything but. His nonchalant attitude only serves to cover his nervousness. He doesn't want to upset Antonio more than he already has been.

"I-I- I don't know. This is all just too much." Antonio's legs give out just then and he sits back on the couch next to his northern neighbor, his face drawn in confusion, his shoulders slumped. "I just don't know, okay?"

Francis laughs, slapping his friend lightly on the back. "Well, I didn't expect you to have an answer this soon, mon ami. Just... think it over, no?"

"Y-yeah, I will."

"Good. Now I'm going to talk to our dear friend, Gilbert. I'm sure he needs someone as well."

"Right, right." Antonio nodded. Francis knew he was still upset and he didn't really want to leave him, but he was sure Gilbert was upset as well and he wanted to make sure the albino didn't do anything stupid.

"Gilbert?" He knocked lightly on the door. "Gilbert?" He opened the door and stuck his head in, bracing himself in case Gilbert threw something at him. Instead he was greeted by an open window and Gilbird chirping wildly, locked in a seldom-used cage. A note was sitting on the table nearby.

Hey West!

I'm taking off for a while. Take care of Gilbird

and, you know, politics and stuff. His food's in

cupboard. Later!

-The Awesome

"And that's what I was afraid of." Francis shook his head sadly, his hair waving lightly with the motion. "Something stupid."

-o-o-o-

It's gonna to be ages before Gilbird forgives from putting him in that cage. He hates it. I know he does. But I had to get out of there. I had to get somewhere where I wouldn't run into 'Toni for a while.

"Matthew!" I burst through his front door, making an awesome dramatic entrance. "You can rejoice now, Awesomeness has arrived!"

"Gilbert? I-is that you?" Matthew asked softly, making his way down the stairs, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His pajamas are like 2 sizes too big for him and the top's slipping off his shoulder. He looks about ten years old, I swear. Freakin' hilarious.

"Yup! I had the sudden urge for pancakes. And no one makes 'em like you do, sleepy head!" I grin at him.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks at me crossly. "It's four in the morning, Gilbert."

"Huh?" I looked at the grandfather clock next to the stairwell. "Huh, so it is. Sorry," I smile a little sheepishly. I didn't mean to wake him up or anything, I just wasn't thinking about it. "Time zones screwed me up."

He pats me on the back and smiles softly as he passes me on the way to what I hope is the kitchen. "It's okay; I'll enjoy the company almost as much as I'd enjoy the sleep."

"Almost! Oh, that's not fair! My awesome company is waaay worth some missed sleep!" I cross my arms over my chest and glare half-heartedly at him. "I'll chalk this up to lack of sleep."

He laughs. "Alright, sure, it's the sleepiness talking. I'll go make those pancakes and then you can tell me why you're really here."

Damn, kid's more perceptive than I gave him credit for.

-o-o-o-

A/N: And Canada makes his first appearance! Whoo! I love Canada, I really really do. He's such a sweetheart. But bad, bad Prussia, running away won't solve your problems! *smacks on nose with a newspaper* 'Til next time, readers! 3


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I stand in the doorway to the kitchen watching Matt as he yawns and puts on this frilly red and white apron. I hold back a snicker; he's so damn girly sometimes.

"If you want any pancakes, you better wipe that smirk off your face." He half-heartedly snaps at me as he pulls his hair back into a short ponytail. I know he's not really mad, but damn! The kid must be physic or something 'cause he didn't even turn around! Hmm... Actually, that would explain how he knew I wasn't just here for his awesome pancakes...

He gestures at the table and flop (totally gracefully!) onto a chair. I watch, not really that interested, as Matt pulls out a bowl and spoons and whatever. I have to admit that Matt's pretty awesome and not just for his mad pancake-making skills. I mean, most people would have kicked me out if I showed up at their place at four in the morning demanding pancakes (People just don't appreciate my awesome-ness enough). Francis would've. Dummkopf.

Honestly, Matt's probably my best friend after 'Toni and Francis. Actually, fuck Francis. He's been getting on my last awesome nerve lately. I like Matt more. Matt's... never looked down on me or anything for not being my own country anymore. Hell, the kid even named this place in Ontario after me! New Prussia, he called it. Said it was a sign of our friendship and that he always respected me and shit. I couldn't look him in the eyes for about a decade. I think he understood though. I guess that's why I always run off to his place when I'm avoiding work. That and West always forgets about him! Easiest place to hide in the world, I swear! It's like this giant-ass blind spot!

"So what's up?" Matt places this huge stack of pancakes in front of me and strike me down if I didn't start drooling. These things are like crack, hand to God. I drown them in maple syrup and shove a forkful in my mouth. Oh god, yes. I'm about to shove some more down my throat, but Matt's staring at me and he's got one eyebrow raised and he looks all serious and shit.

Gott. Fine. "I had a fight with 'Toni, alright? Just had to get away."

"You fought with Spain?" Kid sounded like he didn't believe me. "About what?"

I snort. "What else? Fucking Romano. Stupid little unawesome prick. Idiot's a fucking menace I swear. He should be locked in Feli's basement and never allowed out. Ever. Or," I pause for a second, an awesome idea coming to me, "we could sacrifice him to Russia! It'd keep the bastard out of mine and China's hair and nobody would have to deal with Romano anymore! Win-fucking-win, man! Kesesese!"

"That's not funny, Gilbert."

Whoa. It's been awhile since I've seen Matt this upset. It's like the time I accidently broke his hockey stick and he beat me with the pieces for like an hour. I shrink back a little and slouch down in my chair. It's not like I'm scared or anything though.

"Lo-Romano's not that bad, Gil. You just don't understand him, is all."

"Don't understand- The fuck, Matt! What the hell are you defending him for!" I stand up and slam my hands down on the table, shaking the plate of pancakes and knocking the syrup on its side. "And he _is_ that bad! He's been leading 'Toni on for centuries and insulting me and West for almost as long!"

"W-well, maybe there's a good reason for it... And-and I mean, he's not_ really_ leading Spain on, i-is he? He's always said he's not interested." His voice is quieter than usual and I have to lean forward to catch the last part of that. And he's refusing to look at me.

"What the hell is going on here, Matt?" My voice comes out in a growl and sounds angrier than I really want it to, but god-dammit, he's not telling me something!

"What the hell is Potato-Bastard number two doing here?"

I turned and there he was. Romano. Naked. Standing in the entrance to the kitchen. Growling at me. "No. Fucking. Way. Why the hell are you fucking _everywhere_!"

"I came downstairs to see why Matteo wasn't in bed anymore." He crosses his arms and looks down his nose at me and I can feel my blood boiling.

"Matteo?" I hiss, turning back to stare at Matt. He shifts nervously and when he looks up at me from his chair across the table, his eyes almost make me want to forgive me. But I hold on to that anger, that betrayal.

"T-that's what Lovino c-calls me..."

"Lovino? Fuck! Matt how long have you guys been together?" I'm not a fucking idiot, not matter what some people might say. Yeah, the Italy brothers have got a thing for sleeping naked, but there's no _way_ Matt'd let 'im if they weren't together. And they're calling each other by their human names! You don't do that in private unless you're close.

"A-about four months now..."

"Four! Fuck! How'd this happen?" I collapse in the chair. This- This is just too much. Matt. With fucking Romano.

"What can I say?" Romano smirks at me and shrugs as he sidles up next to Matt. "He's a cutie."

"Hush, Lovino." I bite back a smile when Matt snaps at the little bastard and he starts pouting. "It all started about... I dunno... Five months ago? Five and a half? Something like that." He sighs. "I-I was alone in the conference room after a meeting. I was trying to straighten up my notes a-and Lovino walked up to me. He said he'd never seen me around before, which kind of hurt to be honest-"

"I said I was sorry."

"I know, Lovino. I was also really happy that you noticed me! Even if you didn't remember me from any of the other times... 'Course then he started hitting on me..."

"I thought you were a girl." Romano said it so matter-of-factly that I just starting cracking up. I don't care how mad I am, that's just plain funny. It's even funnier when Matt stomps his foot like he's throwing a tantrum and huffs at me.

"It's not funny, Gil! God, I'm not that feminine! I get enough of that from Al, thank you."

"Pfft. Sorry Matt-man, but funny is funny. And you _are_ girly. Now keep talking."

He frowns and stares at the syrup on the table. I know he's considering tossing it at me, but I'm not worried. Matt would _never_ waste maple syrup. "Fine." He says finally, putting his hands in his lap and giving me a majorly pissed off look. "But I'm not forgetting about this.

"I told Lovino who I was and that I wasn't a girl. He-He looked a little surprised, but he didn't really let up on the flirting. He wouldn't let me leave until I agreed to let him make me lunch. Eventually, I said okay, mostly because I figured he'd forget all about it the second I was out of sight, but sure enough the next day he showed up at my house and took over my kitchen. He ended up making enough food to feed an army." I feel a little sick at the sappy little smile he throws at Romano, but I control the urge to throw up on my pancakes. I might still eat those later. "He, well he started coming over a lot after that. And then... we decided to make it official..."

"Gott, that's just sickening. How many people know about this?"

"W-Well, my brother knows. He kind of... walked in on us once... He has a thing against knocking." Matt was a bright shade of red. "A-And Feliciano knows."

Romano nods. "I wouldn't keep something like this from my fratello."

"And Papa _might_ know. I-I'm not sure. He definitely knows that I'm with something. He can just _smell_ that sort of thing. He told me once it was pheromones."

"Of course he does." I sigh and run my hand through my hair. "And if Feli knows, West probably does too. Can't believe the bastard didn't tell me. 'Course, he probably figures you would've." That was probably a little unfair of me to bring that up, but it does hurt that he didn't tell me.

"I'm sorry, Gil. I-I just knew you wouldn't like it. And we're trying to keep it quiet. Please don't be mad at me? Lovino m-makes me feel... special a-and he never forgets me..."

Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck. I can't be mad at him when he does that. Damn kid. "Fine! I'm not mad. Much. But I still don't like you!" I point at Romano. I wanna make my point. "And if you _ever_ hurt him-"

"Yeah, yeah," Romano waves his hand dismissingly. The little prick. "I already got this speech from America."

"Fine. How's this speech?" I stand up again and put on my most threatening face. Which is pretty damn threatening, thankyouverymuch. I shove his chest. "You are going to tell Antonio about this. He deserves to know."

A/N: Anyone see this coming? No, probably not. As I've said in other stories. I like crack. :D And CanadaxRomano/RomanoxCanada is a cute couple. ('Cause I think they'd switch positions) How is Spain going to take the news? If you know, Romano even tells him.

Translations:

Dummkopf: Bastard (German)

Fratello: Brother (Italian)

Matteo is the Italian version of the name Matthew.


	5. Side Story

Jealousy Side Story

(Romano's POV)

Chigi! God-dammit, I'm pissed off! Stupid fratello ran off with that brother-stealing Potato Bastard again the second the meeting was over, leaving me to deal with all the god-damn paper work. And that fucking jerk, Spain was all over me the whole meeting. "Romano~ You should come over!" "Romano~ Look! I have a tomato!" ...Well, the tomato was good but... Still! He's been pestering me for way too long. But at least I'm finally getting out of here and I can go get something to eat. Maybe meet a pretty girl...

I'm about to turn off the lights when I notice there's someone still sitting at the table. Fuck, I guess I'm not the only one with too much paperwork. Oh, my god. It's a girl. And she's pretty. I've never seen her around before. Maybe she's a micro-nation. But then why'd she be at a meeting? Oh, who cares? She's beautiful. She's got wavy blonde hair; it's a little short, but it's still nice. Her eyes are big and a really beautiful shade of purple- blue. They're covered by a pair of silver glasses, but that's not bad, glasses are kind of cute. I bet she likes to read. It's too bad she's covered up by that gigantic coat, but I bet she's got a real nice body too.

I walk over and sit in the chair next to her. "Hey." I smile, "How's it going?"

She gasps and looks at me all surprised. I guess she didn't realize I was here. Cute. "U-um. Hi." Her voice is so quiet, but it's soft and pretty. Oh, she's blushing!

"So, I was about to go get something to eat. It would make me really happy if you'd come with me." Perfect, Romano, keep going! "There's a wonderful little bistro, not far from here." I stand up and hold out my hand as an invitation. "I'm sure you'd love it."

"I-I- r-really?" She looks down and starts fiddling with her hands. "I-I suppose-"

"Who is he?"

What? Where'd that- A polar bear? Is that a polar bear on the floor? No fucking way!

"T-that's Romano, Kumawaka." She says patiently and picks the bear up and hugging it to her chest.

"Oh. Who are you?"

"I'm Canada, Kumasora."

"Oh. Food?"

Wait. Canada? I've heard of that one before. I know I have. Canada... Canada... Shit! I can't remember! Where's a damn map when you need one?

"So you're Canada?" Oh, fuck! That was definitely the wrong thing to say. She looks so hurt...

"Yeah...I-I mean, yes! I'm Canada, eh."

"W-well," Fuck it! Now I'm stuttering too! "I can't believe I haven't seen such a beautiful woman around here before now."

"Eh?" She blinks. Then she tilts her head. Then she looks around her. "But I-I'm not a girl..." She says finally.

Wait. What? I look her up and down again. I guess she does look pretty flat-chested... I thought that was just the coat though! Well fuck. She-_he_ is still pretty damn cute. Hmmm... Well, I guess it's not that big of a deal. I can still work with this. "Do you like Italian food?"

"W-what? Uh, sure." She-_he_ (damn that's gonna take some getting used to) looks surprised. Like he thought I'd stop talking to him now.

"Sure? That's it? Sure?" I laugh. "Obviously you haven't been eating the good stuff. Tell you what," I lean on the table, so I can look her-_him_ in the eyes, "why don't I come over and make you something?"

"I dunno..." He looked away, and he was blushing again. Damn! He is just too cute! It should be illegal or something.

"Come on," I coax, leaning in closer. "What's the harm? I promise you'll love it."

He looks back at me and bites his lower lip. Damn, he has nice lips. They look soft and I bet they're warm... Fuck! Focus, Romano! Focus! He kind of looks like he wants to say no.

I grin at him. "I'm not going to take no for an answer, you know." I sit on the table and fold my arms over my chest, smiling at him. "I'm not letting you leave until you say yes."

He looks up at me, his eyes wide. Wow, he has really long eyelashes for a guy. "W-well... I suppose..."

"Buona!" This is so great! "It'll be a feast to remember!"

He smiles at me and nods, but I swear he still looks sad. "I should get going though. I-I need to feed Kumajiji." The bored little bear's ears perk up and it asks about food again. "That's right Kumamaka, food. Goodbye, Romano."

"See you soon," I correct. "See you soon, Canada."

He just smiles weakly at me then stands up and starts walking off, still carrying that polar bear (Kuma-whatever).

"Who's coming over?" The bear asks Canada as they're walking out the door.

"Nobody, Kumanara," he whispers and I swear it almost sounds like he's crying. "He'll forget all about me in a couple of minutes."

Oh. That... kind of hurts. Have I met him before? I must have for him to react that way. Well, fuck. I wouldn't want to do that to anybody... I know how it feels to be forgotten... I wonder how many people even remember that Veneziano isn't the only Italy there is. Fuck, this is a depressing line of thought.

I look at the doorway Canada left out of. I wonder if I still have a shot. I mean, I'd be pretty pissed off at me if I were him. But he did say I could come over... I won't forget about him again. I scribble a note on my paperwork to remind me about the lunch. When I really do show up at his place, he'll be so happy it won't matter that I forgot about him before.

I nod, smiling again, and start humming 'Fratelli d'Italia'. I wonder what I should make?

A/N: Yup! A cute little side story about how Romano and Canada got together. I'm sorry for Romano's potty-mouth, but I think his inner monologue would just be riddled with cuss-words. I hope you enjoyed it! The Prussian goodness will resume in the next chapter.

Translations:

Fratello: brother

Buona!: Good!

Oh, the song Romano starts humming at the end is the Italian national anthem. The actual title of the song is 'Il Canto degli Italiani' or 'The Song of the Italians', but it's better known as 'Fratelli d'Italia' or 'Brothers of Italy'.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"That's it for the day. If anyone else feels the need to speak, there is time now. Have your materials ready and raise your hand. Be brief and to the point." West said and sat back down. I stretch from my seat, lounging awesomely in the chair between West and Specs. Thank Fritz; I never thought that speech would be over. West goes on and on. And on. It reminds me why I don't usually come to these things. I was bored off my ass. Well, except for when America started rambling something about heroes, giant robots, and Ronald McDonald. That was fucking awesome.

"Yeah, I have something to say."

That snaps me out of my thoughts. _Romano _has something to say? No fucking way. He's not gonna do it here, is he? Nah, not even Romano is that much of an ass.

...Right?

I look back at West as he rubs the bridge of his nose. He's expecting Romano to say something stupid, I can tell. "Ja? What is it?"

"Matteo and I are dating." Romano crosses his arms and glares around the table, as if daring someone to say there was something wrong with that. His eyes meet mine and he scowls. I can't believe he just said that.

"Matteo?" Japan is the one to finally voice the question that just about everyone at the table is thinking. "I apologize, but who is it that you are talking about?"

"Matteo!" Romano snaps at the poor guy. "I said Matteo! Idiota! Canada!"

The same confused mumbles echo through the room until Francis, Fritz bless him, speaks up. "Oh, Matthieu! I am so pleased!" He jumps from his seat and practically floats over to Matt. He wraps an arm around him and starts stroking his hair in a manner that jumps right over parental and lands smack dab in the middle of creepy. "I _knew_ you were in love! You've been positively _glowing_!"

All eyes focus and Francis and Matt and Matt, _so_ not used to attention, turns bright red and tries to sink around the table. He probably would've run off if Francis hadn't been holding him in place.

"So we're telling people now?" America asks, though he doesn't look particularly interested. "Alright, cool." I think he's playing some sort of hand-held game under the table. I can faintly hear the tell-tale electronic buzzing and beeping.

England walks over to Matt and detaches Francis from him. "Well, good for you, lad. Though I wish you would've told me." He frowns and looks at Romano, uncertainly. I guess he doesn't really know how to feel about him. He shouldn't feel good about it, that's for damn sure.

More people start congratulating them (I hear Feliciano say something about making pasta to celebrate), but I'm focused on Antonio. Up 'til now, he was just sitting in his seat, eyes wide and mouth open. I guess he was in shock. But now he's shakily making his way to Matt and I'm kind of worried about what he's planning to do. Antonio can be a bit unpredictable sometimes.

"C-congratulations, Canada." The wide smile on Antonio's face looks unnatural, out-of-place, and doesn't reach his eyes, which refuse to meet Matt's.

"Um, t-thanks, Spain. I-I..." He bows his head, his face hidden behind his hair. "I'm sorry."

The smile disappears immediately from Antonio's face. Then he laughs, the hollow sound echoes through the room as everyone turns silent. "Sorry? For what, mi amigo?" He doesn't wait for an answer but turns and starts walking towards the door. "Perdón, but I just remember something that I need to do."

I watch as Antonio walks stumbling out the room and everyone else just sits there in silence, trying to pretend they don't know why he did. Verdammt. I push my chair back and follow him out, giving a good glare to that damn eye-tie on my way out. What kind of dummkopf would do that in public?

Well, damn it. Antonio's not right outside the door. So, with my awesome skills of logic, I decide to start wandering the hall of whatever government building we're in. I mean, West was leading the meeting, but I have no fucking clue who was actually hosting it. England maybe? I shrug. Ah, who cares? What's important is that I don't see 'Tonio anywhere! He's probably not even here anymore. I know I would've taken the first chance I had to get the hell out of here if I were him. I guess I should just head back to the meeting room. West is probably pissed at me for leaving anyway...

Wait a second. Before I can leave I hear the familiar sounds of someone cursing in Spanish (brings me back to Antonio's pirate days) and I turn the corner just in time to watch 'Tonio punch a hole in the wall and then slump to the floor clutching his head.

For a second I don't know what the hell to do, but before I know it my body is moving on its own and I'm sitting next to Antonio leaning against the wall, one leg under me and the other sticking straight out like a road block. "Look at us: a couple of delinquents, skipping meetings and crowding up public hallways. Kesesese! Reminds you of the good ol' days, huh?"

Antonio looks over at me like he hadn't even realized I was there (which he probably hadn't). He wipes his face with his sleeve and sniffles. "Gilbert? Wha-What are you doing here?"

I shrug and look down the hallway where I came from. "Eh, that meeting was totally unawesome, so I decided to ditch the rest of it."

He laughs, but it sounds fake and he still looks like he could break down any second. "I'm an idiot, aren't I Gil? He's never been interested in me. I-I always thought he was just... playing hard to get and that if, if I was just persistent he'd, he'd... I don't know." He pulls his legs to his chest and buries his face in his knees. "I've been so estúpido."

I bit my lip to keep from screaming at him. I wanna tell him that, of course, he was being an idiot! I wanna tell him that Romano was _never_ worth so much effort and that I'd be so much more awesome for him. But I can't. I just can't do that to him, so instead I sigh and shake my head. "Nah. It's just your passionate Spanish soul or some shit."

"No!" He snaps up and slams his hands on the floor, making a dull smacking sound that echoes in the empty hall. "I am an idiot! He used me and I let him because I love him. He's told me time and time again that he doesn't love me and I," his voice cracks but he just keeps talking. "I should have known better. You were right, Gil. You were right about everything. I-I..."

He turns and stares at me, his eyes bright and circled in red and the way he's looking at me, all of a sudden I can't breathe. Then his lips crash into mine and my mind goes wonderfully blank.

-o-o-o-

A/N: Look, look! The story wasn't abandoned! :D I had a lot of stuff going on and I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. However! It's now (for the most part) settling down, so I should be able to update more frequently.

But hey, a kiss! -3-

Translations:

Ja?: Yes? (German)

Idiota!: Idiot! (Italian)

Mi amigo: my friend (Spanish)

Perdón: Sorry (Spanish)

Verdammt: damn (German)

Dummkopf: Bastard (German)

Estúpido: stupid (Spanish)


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

My mind goes blank and the blood rushes in my ears. The next thing I know I'm shoving Antonio to the ground, roughly pressing my lips against his. He gasps and I take the opportunity to plunge into his mouth.

Oh god, he tastes like churros.

His arms snake around my neck and he pulls himself up closer to me, his warm body pressed fully against mine.

I wrap one arm around his waist and, with my other hand, tangle my fingers in his hair. God, I fucking love his hair; soft and wavy, and this fucking awesome shade of dark brown that looks perfect against my pale skin.

His tongue pushes back at mine and I moan into his mouth, tightening my grip on his waist. I growl softly and pull back just long enough to bite his lower lip. He gasps again, but I can feel his lips curl into a smile against my mouth and he submits to letting me explore his mouth in depth.

I run my tongue alongside the walls of his mouth, savoring the taste of him. That spicy, kind of garlic-y flavor somehow overpowered by the subtle taste of tomatoes; it's exactly how I thought he'd taste, but somehow even better.

I untangle my fingers from his hair and run my hands down his sides. I reach his hips and he bucks toward me.

Unh. Damn, that's hot.

I grind my hips into his and he breaks our kiss, throwing his head back in a deep-throated moan. I grin down at him. God, he's so sexy like that; hair all mussed, lips red and slightly swollen, panting heavily underneath me.

"Bruder, what are you doing?"

Fuck. I turn my head to see West, Feli, Matt, and Romano standing behind us. Bruder looks embarrassed, though not half as much as Matt, whose face looks like one of 'Tonio's home-grown tomatoes. Feli just looks kind of confused and Romano, that- never mind, he's not worth my awesomely witty insults anymore. He just looks disgusted.

Antonio wiggles out from underneath me and sits against the wall. He folds his hands in his lap (probably trying to hide something I _felt_ was there) and stares down at them, face almost as red as Matt's.

"Dammit, West! Do you _have_ to butt in right when it's getting good? Do I ever interrupt your and Feli's bondage night? No. No, I don't. I sit in the living room and turn up the volume on the TV." I stand up and cross my arms over my chest. "Couldn't have just left us alone..." I mutter and even I can hear the bitterness in my voice.

"Ve... Are you and fratello Antonio dating?"

Heh. Dating... that sounds pretty nice, actually. I don't think I've ever really dated anyone. Not seriously, at least. I guess you could say that I'm not really the commitment type. But for Antonio, I think I could do it.

"Umm, I-I mean we- well..." Antonio fidgets and fumbles with the words, eyes darting from his hands right to Romano.

Romano. It's always fucking _Romano_.

I push past West and storm out of the hallway. I just can't win, can I? I open the emergency exit and just before the alarms start blaring I hear Feliciano.

"Did I say something bad, Luddy?"

-o-o-o-

I sit at the bar, nursing my eleventh or twelfth beer of the night and watch as the world seems to get blurrier and blurrier.

"He's an idiot..." I mumble. "Total idiot."

"Yes, yes," Francis agrees from his seat beside me at the bar. He's still holding the same glass of wine he's had for about an hour. At least, I think it's been an hour. Hasn't it? I don't know anymore. "Un bouffon complete."

"How can he still not be over Romano? The ass is dating Matt now, but 'Tonio still doesn't... stupid eye-tie... Stupid, stupid Spaniard... And I'm a damn good kisser too."

"Well, oui, but..." Francis sighs and shakes his head. "These things take time, mon ami. Our dear Antonio has been in love with Lovino for hundreds of years. Affection like that does not simply disappear. You must be patient with him."

I scoff. "Dude, Francis... I'm not sure how much longer I can just wait around."

He laughs, the sound echoing in the dingy little bar we ended up in. "You will wait as long as you have to and you know it." His face gets that weird far-off dreamy look he gets sometimes and he sighs again. "That's get what love is."

Waiting? That's love? _Really_? Francis is so fucking weird sometimes. "No, Francis. I'm gonna wait 'cause I'm an idiot, too." I bang my head on the bar. Huh. I can still kind of feel that... the beer must be wearing off. I raise my hand to signal to the bartender I want another. He slides one over to me and I lift my head to take another drink.

"Sure, Gilbert," I cringe when Francis starts talking again because I can _feel_ that stupid, knowing smile in his voice. "I'm sure that's all it is."`

-o-o-o-

A/N: I don't know. Should I end it here? But then it would be one of those cliff hanger-y endings that I hate... And I don't really want to be one of those writers...

Translations:

Bruder: brother (German)

Fratello: brother (Italian)

Un bouffon complete: A complete buffoon (French)

Oui: Yes (French)

mon ami: my friend (French)


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

And after a long, arduous trek, escaping from West and his boring, boring pile of paperwork and dodging bullets shot at me from that damn Switzerland, I've finally arrived at my destination. I fling open the door and step, dramatically, into the well-lit foyer. "Feli! The Awesome has come to visit!" I shout, my _awesome_ voice ringing through the room.

"Ve?" Little Feliciano comes out of the kitchen. He's wearing a white apron wrapped around his waist and holding a large wooden spoon in one hand. He's got spatterings of pasta sauce on his face. How cute. "Gilbert? What are you doing here?"

I kick off my shoes and hop over the back of Feli's leather sofa. I then sink into a comfortable position, propping my feet up on the coffee table. I fucking love this couch; West's is so... practical. "What? I'm not allowed to visit my favorite Italian?"

"No, Gilbert! I mean... Yes, Gilbert!" Feli frowns then smiles vacantly. "I'm always happy to have you over! I'm just making some dinner. Do you want to join us?"

"That's-wait, us?" I turn around on the couch, leaning over the back of it. Fuck, Romano isn't here, is he? I know it isn't West, he was home when I left, yelling at me about work and responsibility. You know, blah, blah, blah.

"H-hola, Gil." Antonio steps awkwardly out of the kitchen and stands next to Feli. He's got his hands hidden behind his back and he's looking at the couch instead of me.

Verdammt. I've successfully avoided Antonio for months now. And it wasn't easy either! Especially not with fucking Francis trying to set up "coincidental" meetings. But now I run into him at Feli's? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I just _had_ to come over, didn't I? Just _had_ to run out on the paperwork West wanted me to do.

You could cut the tension in the room with a fucking knife and practically taste how awkward this all is. Even Feli notices something is wrong. I see him looking around, confused, as me and 'Tonio avoid eye contact with each other and say nothing.

I look up at Antonio. It's been forever since I last saw him. And mein Gott, he looks awful. He's got bags under his eyes like he hasn't slept since I last saw him, but his hair's all mussed up like he just rolled out of bed. His eyes are all red and bloodshot and his face is all scruffy; I can't tell when he last shaved.

And I still wanna tap that.

I frown, and then sigh. Fuck it, I've already run into him, what's the point of ignoring him now? "Hey 'Tonio."

He smiles just about the smallest smile I've ever seen on his face before and slowly (like I might attack him or something) walks around the couch to stand in front of me. "I-I've missed you, Gil."

I scoff. "You've missed me? I guess Romano's been pretty busy with Matt, huh?" I don't mean to be cruel, but I can't help that I'm fucking bitter. I mean, I have every reason to be.

Antonio looks at me with hurt, sad eyes. "That's not fair, Gil. How can you say that?"

I huff, but don't say anything more. He knows damn well how I can say it and I want to yell at him some more, but that look on his face is twisting my stomach into knots and practically breaking my heart.

I look him over again. Subtly, of course. His clothes are also a mess. And not just dirty from working in the garden like they usually are, but also wrinkled and the buttons are all misaligned. "How's your economy right now? I ask, the anger ebbing from my voice, concern taking over. What could have happened to him that would mess him up like this?

He looks surprised. Maybe that's not it after all. "It's about the same as it's been. Why?"

I shake my head. "Never mind." Guess that isn't it. Then what? A plague?

Neither of us says anything for a while and it's starting to get awkward again. Hey, what a sec. Where'd Feli go? I swear he was here a minute ago, but-

"Haven't you missed me? At all?" That damn small voice of his pulls at my heart.

"Gott! Of course I have!" I jump up from the couch and start pacing the area between it and the coffee table. I stop, look at him, and swallow the uncomfortable lump that had risen in my throat. "I've missed you like crazy. I think about you all the fucking time, but I-" I fumble over the words. I don't know what I'm trying to say here, I just... I sigh. "Being around you hurts, 'Tonio."

"_Not_ being around you hurts me, Gilbert." He sighs softly, sounding exhausted. "I haven't been able to sleep; I haven't been able to eat. All I do is think about you and how badly I messed up that day." He steps closer to me and I can feel his breath on my face. "I've really missed you."

I'm not stupid, I know what's happening here and I know it's a bad idea. I know it's not going to end well for me. Shit never turns out well for me and this doesn't feel like an exception. Hell, if I could, I'd tackle myself to the ground to keep myself from going through with this. But I can't and nothing less is going to stop this from happening.

I step forward to close what little space was left between us and I rest my hand on his hip. "I've missed you, too."

I lean forward and press my lips against Antonio's lightly. He presses back harder and my mind starts to go a little fuzzy, like when I've had a couple too many beers.

"Gilbert," he mumbles against my lips and the vibrations send shivers straight down to my groin. I love the way my name sounds when he says it. He wraps his arms around my back, hands clinging to my shoulder blades, and presses his body into mine.

I think the lack of blood flow to my head compromised my balance, because before I know it we're tumbling backwards onto the couch, me on my back and Antonio straddling my lap. He takes advantage of the new position and grinds his hips forward. I moan out loud, throwing my head back. He's as hard as I am, I can feel it, and mein Gott it feels good.

He kisses my neck, leaving a warm, wet, tingling trail to my shoulder and nipping at it. He pushes his hands up my shirt, rubbing at my chest and I move into his touch. Antonio hasn't been this aggressive since his conquistador days, and I have to say I've missed it.

That doesn't mean I'm gonna be outdone, though. I fist his dark, wavy hair in my hand and pull his face up to mine, crashing our lips together. I dig my fingernails into his back and he moans and bites my lip.

We kiss passionately, all teeth and tongue and sweaty moaning. It's everything I've wanted for the past few hundred years, but something in the back of my mind starts nagging at me.

I pull away, scooting into a sitting position and Antonio teeters uncertainly on my lap. "Gil?" The confusion and hurt in his voice is obvious.

"Fuck, 'Tonio, why are you doing this to me?" I run my fingers through my hair and sigh sadly. Every bone in my body (and one in particular in my lap) is screaming in protest. Why am I stopping this? I can't even really explain it to myself...

Antonio looks up at me with big, sad eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything, Gil, I-"

"No," I interrupt. I don't wanna hear this shit. I can't hear this shit. "Just don't, 'Tonio. Don't do that."

"Gilbert, please!" His eyes aren't just sad anymore, they're all wet and shiny, like he's about to cry and he sounds kind of desperate. "I'm so sorry." He leans forward, wraps his arms around my neck and buries his face in my shoulder. "Please. I can't lose you, Gilbert. You mean so much to me." He pauses for a second and then speaks so quietly, if it wasn't for the fact that the room's gone eerily silent, I probably wouldn't have heard it.

"I-I love you, Gil."

The world seems to freeze around me as I stare down at the Spaniard nuzzling into the crook of my neck. He loves me? What the fuck does is that supposed to mean?

A/N: After much debating with myself, I've decided to continue this story and give it a proper ending. I don't think I could forgive myself if I left it were it was. So if anyone is still reading this story, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 'Til next time!

P.S. If you want to check the progress of a story, I put what percentage of the current chapter is complete on my profile. Just to let y'all know.

Translations:

Hola- Hello (Spanish)

Verdammt- Dammit (German)

Mein Gott- My God (German)


	9. Chapter 8

**WARNING**: This chapter contains a lemon! The beginning and end of it will be clearly marked and will not need to be read to understand the next chapter. So if you don't wanna read it, skip it. If you do, you're my kind of peoples and I hope you enjoy it. Now, with that out of the way, on to the story!

Chapter 8

"What do you mean, you love me?" I question hesitantly, not sure if I really want to know the answer. I mean, if he says as a friend or something I seriously might die. Or kill someone. Probably Romano. Or Francis. Maybe both. And god, my heart's pounding so hard in my chest that it hurts and I just know that 'Tonio can feel it. Hell, I bet West can hear it all the way back home.

Antonio pulls away from the crook of my neck and looks up at me, his brow knitted in confusion. "What do you mean, what do I mean? I-I love you. I was stupid to push you away, Gil."

I look him over, searching for a sign of deceit. I mean, it's not that I don't trust 'Tonio, but when you've lived as long and put up with as much shit as I have, you tend to look at everything a little suspiciously. Plus these days I don't really trust it when things start going well for me. "What about Romano?" I ask, probing for a reaction, even though I know it's probably kind of cruel.

I almost regret it when a pained look spreads over Antonio's face. His voice comes out quiet and kind of trembling as he replies, "I... I realize that Lovino is out of my reach now. Well... I guess he's always been out of my reach..." He sighs sadly and shakes his head slowly. "I-I can't really say that I'm completely over him, but... I realize now how stupid I was that day. I never should have pushed you away."

I huff. "No, you shouldn't have."

Antonio sighs again and I feel him slipping off my lap.

Oh no, he doesn't. I growl, the sound vibrating deep in the back of my throat and grab the back of his pants, pulling him down so he falls halfway on top of me. "Who said you could leave?" I kiss him roughly and he melts into me, fingers clenched around my shirt.

"Does this mean you forgive me?" He asks when we break for air.

I smirk in a way I know makes me look dead sexy. Believe me, I've seen it in the mirror. "Maybe. If ya wanna find out, you can come by my place later, alright?" I stand up, pulling Antonio up with me. I slap him on the ass, laughing when he gasps. I grin at him, then look at the entrance of the kitchen. "See ya later, Feli!"

-o-o-o-

Spain stands at the door to Prussia and Germany's house. He raises his arm to knock, then drops it again. He isn't sure why he's so nervous. After all, with the way Prussia was acting, he couldn't really be that mad at him anymore, no matter what he said. Nevertheless, he is still nervous as hell. He shakes his head and finally knocks on the door he had been standing in front of for the past five minutes.

Prussia answers it and bows deeply, glancing up at him with a mocking grin. "Do come in, good sir."

Spain laughs at his friend's ridiculous behavior. "What are you doing, Gil?"

The albino stands up straight and shrugs his lean shoulder, the grin still firmly in place. "I dunno. It just felt appropriate seeing as you looked so fucking serious."

"O-oh," Spain replied, then fell silent, embarrassed.

"Pfft. Jeez, 'Tonio, no need to overreact. C'mon, I got some dinner ready for us in the other room. Oh, and don't worry 'bout West. I convinced Feli to take him off our hands tonight." He winks and gestures for the other to follow him as he walks away.

Spain nods and follows Prussia into the dining room. When he sees the food on the table, his eyes widen. It's paella with chicken, chorizo, and all kinds of seafood. It looks a little messy and kind of badly prepared, but Spain can't help the broad smile that comes across his face. Paella is his favorite and Prussia actually remembered. "Oh, Gil... This is so sweet." He says as he sits down at the large table.

Prussia flops down in the chair across from Spain. "Yeah, I know. I'm totally awesome." He grabs his fork and takes a big bite of the food he made. "Huh, pretty awesome for my first try."

"Very awesome," Spain agrees after eating some himself. "You even managed to get some socarrat!"

"Uh, some what?" He raised an eyebrow at the Spaniard, obviously not having a clue what he was talking about.

"T-the bottom? How it's all toasty?"

"Oh, that. So that's a good thing?" Prussia asks and scratches the back of his neck. "Awesome. I-uh... kinda of thought I burned it or something."

"No, no! It's delicious, Gilbert!" He smiles brightly and eats some more. It isn't the best paella he's ever had (for one thing he can tell Prussia had used canned tomatoes instead of fresh, which disappoints him to no end), but it isn't bad either. And Prussia had obviously worked hard on it. "So does this mean I'm forgiven?"

Prussia smirks and leans back in his chair. "Guess it does. But don't think I'll be so lenient if you deny being my boyfriend again."

Spain's eyes widen and a light pink blush spreads over his tanned face. "W-what do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" He teases and leans over the table, gently catching Spain's lips with his own. "So... if you're done eating, wanna go up to my bedroom?" Prussia purrs seductively and wiggles his eyebrows.

Spain smiles, "Oh, but Gilbert, then all this delicious food would go to waste." He says teasing the Prussian. "It would be a shame. You know, seeing as it's so awesome and all."

"The food is awesome, sure, but we could be doing _way_ more awesome things." He stands and smiles arrogantly. "And you fucking know it. Now get your fine Spanish ass to my bed."

"Oh, so authoritative, Gil," Spain chuckles and gets up from his seat. "But I suppose I've had enough to eat." He smiles.

"Awesome."

-o-o-o-**LEMON BEGINNING!-**o-o-o-

The two men tumble onto the huge king-sized bed, landing in a pile of rumpled silken black sheets. Neither take note of the mess; all attention is focused on each other and the building sense of need and desire. Prussia strips off his shirt and tosses in somewhere to be forgotten among the mess, then turns his attention to the man lying beneath him. He runs his hands slowly down Spain's sides, stopping at the hem of his shirt and fingering it teasingly. He glances over to Spain who gives a nod and Prussia pulls the shirt off in one fluid motion. He bites his lower lip and runs his hands over Spain's bare chest. "Uhn. You look fucking sexy, 'Tonio."

Spain smiles and looks up at Prussia with half-closed eyes. He reaches up and traces meaningless designs on the other man's chest and stomach, then his hands slip south, tugging at Prussia's zipper for a moment before pushing his pants down to his knees and revealing a pair of boxer shorts printed with designs of little yellow birds.

Prussia chuckles and kicks his pants off the rest of way, shoving them off the bed with his foot. "Impatient, huh?"

"Well, you _did _promise awesome things."

Prussia places a warm, wet kiss on Spain's neck. "Very awesome," he murmurs into it, then bites down, earning a loud gasp from his partner. "Now how 'bout we get rid of your pants?" Prussia says as he kisses a line down Spain's tanned skin, pausing to lick at a dusty nipple.

Spain gasps and arches into the sensation. Prussia smirks and takes the bud into his mouth, teasing it until it was hard and Spain was writhing beneath him. The Spaniard moans, throwing his head back and gripping the sheets wrinkled sheets tightly. When he's pleased with his handiwork, the albino continues his journey south, pausing briefly to nip at Spain's navel. He reaches the top of Spain's khakis and after placing one final kiss on his hip, Prussia sits up and undoes the brunette's pants, pulling them off slowly. "Mmm, commando huh?"

Prussia runs his hands slowly up Spain's inner thighs, then over to cup his groin. Rubbing it lightly, he leans forward and whispers breathily into Spain's ear, "Mien Gott, you're so fucking delicious right now, 'Tonio."

Spain moans softly and thrusts into Prussia's hand. He reaches up and tugs at Prussia's boxers, displeased that there was still clothing on the albino. Prussia chuckles and tries, unsuccessfully, to pull them off one-handed, before Spain moves to help him.

The two, now fully unclothed, kiss each with renewed vigor. Prussia descends on Spain's mouth roughly, his tongue pushing into Spain's. The brunette opens his mouth wider to allow better access and wraps his arms around Prussia's neck tightly, pulling him closer. Prussia groans as he grinds into Spain's hips.

"G-Gil," Spain gasps out, rocking his hips into Prussia's.

Prussia mutters something incomprehensible as he reaches over and starts fishing at the side of the bed. A moment later his hand comes back up clutching a bottle of lotion.

"Found th-that awful fast, didn't you?" Spain asks in a mockingly innocent voice.

"Oh, shut it and be grateful." Prussia growls in reply, leaning down to kiss him again. He wets his fingers with the lotion and teasingly rubs Spain's entrance before sliding a finger through the ring of muscle.

Spain gasps at the cool, wet sensation. He wriggles on the bed as Prussia slowly moves his finger in and out. "You d-don't have to take it so slow, Gil."

Prussia smirks down at him, wiggling his finger and earning a loud moan from his partner. "Now, now, 'Tonio... Awesome things come to those what wait." Despite saying this, he pushes in a second finger, sliding them both in and out quickly. Satisfied that his lover is suitably prepared and too impatient to wait any longer, Prussia pulls both fingers out and rubs some lotion over his throbbing dick.

He looks down at Spain. God, he looks gorgeous. His hair is tussled and messy. His lips are red, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. A light sheen of sweat covers his tanned skin. His thick, swollen member stands at full salute, pre-cum beading at the top.

"Are you just going to stare or do I get those awesome things now?" Spain half-asks, half-pleads, the need obvious in his voice.

Prussia just nods, too far gone to tease him, and props one of Spain's legs on his shoulder. He pushes in slowly and moans. It's hot and tight, everything he remembered and everything he wanted. He leans forward, attacking Spain's throat as he pushes in deeper, then waits, barely able to contain himself, for Spain to adjust.

It doesn't take long for Spain to start wiggling beneath Prussia, softly pushing back into Prussia. "M-move, por favor," he moans. Eager to comply, Prussia thrusts in slow and shallow until Spain rolls his hips back hard. Spain gasps loudly as sparks of pleasure shoot through his body. "M-mio Dios, do that again."

Prussia grunts in pleasure and grabs Spain's hips, pulling him closer and thrusting in deeper. Deeper, faster, harder, until Prussia drowning in warm sea of pleasure and he can't think of anything, but how good, how awesome, this all feels, and how he and Spain just fit together so perfectly. He can barely even hear the meaningless moans and cries of Spain writhing beneath him and he knows he isn't going to last much longer.

He grabs Spain's throbbing member and strokes it with a rough, heavy hand. Spain gasps and arches into the touch. Soon a loud, low cry rips itself from Spain's throat as he releases all over Prussia's hand and stomach.

Spain's walls tighten around Gilbert and he groans. A few more shallow thrusts and he cums with deep moan and collapses on top of his lover, sweaty, panting, and out of breath.

-o-o-o-**END LEMON**-o-o-o-

Spain smiles weakly and wraps his arms loosely around Prussia's waist. "T-te amo, Gil," he murmurs softly and kisses Prussia softly.

"Ich liebe dich, 'Tonio," Prussia mumbles back.

A/N: *cough* So yeah. That. Well, I hope you enjoyed the tasty lemon. I was going to make it a chapter all its own, but decided that would make this chapter would be awfully short. Well, uh... I guess that's all I have to say... 'Til next time, readers!

(Review please?)

Notes:

Paella- A Spanish dish consisting a rice, green vegetables, and meat/seafood.

Chorizo- Spanish pork sausage

Socarrat-A term referring to a toasted rice bottom

Translations:

Mien Gott- My God (German)

Por favor- Please (Spanish)

Mio Dios- My God (Spanish)

Te amo- I love you (Spanish)

Ich liebe dich- I love you (German)


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I'm sitting, lounging awesomely on my boyfriend's couch. Heh. Boyfriend. The thought still makes me grin, even though it's been months since we got together. Seven months in fact. Or was it seven and a half? Whatever, point is it's been a while. And it's been fucking awesome. Best seven, seven and a half months I've had since my empire fell. Hell, maybe even since before then.

I spend more time here at 'Tonio's house than I do at West's these days. And I'm sure West is totally bummed that I'm not around more, but, you know, he's a big boy. He can take care of himself. And, uh, the country.

But, whatever. Enough about West, he's a boring, unawesome stick-in-the-mud anyway. Time to get back to more important, more awesome things, i.e. me and Antonio. 'Tonio's in the kitchen right now with Matt making snacks while I'm stuck out here with Romano, watching some Spanish football game.

It's like this a lot lately, actually, the four of us all hanging out, but strangely enough, I can't really say I mind that much. I mean, obviously I like hanging out with Matt, the kid's awesome, but even being around Romano isn't as bad as it used to be. I can't really say that I like the bastard or anything, but I guess I don't hate him either. I mean, he's still unawesomely annoying and I so don't get his unnatural hatred of potatoes, but I guess I can stand being around him now. I guess. It makes it a lot easier to stand him without Tonio fawning all over him.

I jump when the little eye-tie (and I now say that with all the love in the world, or so I tell 'Tonio) starts yelling at the t.v. "Dai! Mio Dio! Where did these bastardi learn to play?" He throws his hands in the air and lets out an exasperated sigh. He gives him a sideways glance. "Spanish teams suck, you know."

"Hey," I respond with mock anger, "don't you diss my man's teams like that. I think he's proud of those." Romano makes a face and I laugh. "Kesese! German teams _are_ better though."

Romano scoffs. The little arschloch actually has the nerve to scoff when I just pointed out an absolute fact. "German teams are awful. They suck worse than the Spanish ones, and that says something."

Oh hell no. I can't believe he just said that to my face. The guy's asking for an ass-whooping. "What the fuck are you talking about, you Blödmann? German teams are awesome! Way better than those Italian teams anyway!"

"German teams suck balls!" Romano yells back at me, his stupid little face turning red.

I think I'm gonna have to slug 'im. I know 'Tonio's not gonna like it, but I don't really see another option here. I mean, I can't just let him say these things about West's and my teams!

"Now, now, boys. Calm down," Matt says quietly as he walks out of the kitchen carrying a plate of delicious looking pastries of some kind.

Romano immediately shuts up and rushes over to help Matt with the tray. "Here, let me get those, you shouldn't really be on your feet."

Mein Gott, I can't get over how huge Matt's gotten. It's like there's a barrel strapped to his stomach. He's what, five, six months pregnant now? Should he be that big already?

I remember when he Matt first told me about it. He came to West's all panicky and freaking out. He was rambling something in that Quebec-y French of his and it took me forever to get him to tell me what was wrong. He finally broke into tears and told me he was pregnant, saying he didn't even know it could happen and he didn't know what to do or what Romano would think.

Now I hate to admit it, but I'm not so awesome at the comforting people thing, but I managed to convince him somehow that it was a good thing. And it is a good thing! I think. God, I hope the kid gets more of Matt's personality than Romano's. I remember what they both were like as kids and Matt was definitely cuter.

Oh man, I can just imagine it. A little brown-haired, curly-headed girl running around with a stuffed polar bear, asking for pancakes and tomatoes. Super cute, but totally cute. Doesn't that just sound fucking adorable? I'd have her call me Uncle Gil. And I'd be the most awesome uncle, too. I'd read her stories and give her candy. I'd play those silly little girl games with her (I make totally awesome imaginary tea) and teach her how to bug the crap outta West and Austria. Heh. This sound like it might be kind of fun actually.

I look over at 'Tonio, who's talking excitedly to Matt about something or other. He's rubbing Matt's stomach with one hand and holding a tray of churros with the other. I love that smile of his, the way his eyes shine when he's happy. And looking at him, so excited about Matt and Romano's baby, I can't help but think that having one of our own might not be so bad.

End.

A/N: Happy fluffy ending for everyone! *throws confetti* Thank you all for sticking with me through all the ups and downs of this story. I really enjoyed writing it and I'm kind of sad to see it end. It's not done in my usual style and it was really a challenge, but I think that was part of the fun. ^^ I hope you all enjoyed it as well! If you did, and you'd like to read more of my stuff, please visit my page. I have a fun AU RusKor story going on right now. C:

And just because the story is over doesn't mean I don't want reviews! I only got one review for the last chapter and that made me very sad. :C So please review! I'd really like to know what you think!

Translations:

Dai!: Come on! (Italian)

Mio Dio!: My God! (Italian)

Bastardi: Bastards (Italian)

Arschloch: Asshole (German)

Blödmann: Dumbass (Dumbass)

Note: And yes, by football I mean soccer.


End file.
